


The AR is in.

by Apiaristic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Android Auto-Responder | Lil Hal, Begging, Bondage, Dirk Strider likes fingers in his butt, Dubious Consent, Forced Orgasms, Hal is not a medical professional, M/M, MedFet, Medical Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Overstimulation, PWP, Prostate Exam, Prostate Milking, Restraints, Safewords, Shameless Smut, android hal, dom/sub elements, fake medical procedures but Dirk doesn't know better and he's not complaining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apiaristic/pseuds/Apiaristic
Summary: When Dirk decided to give his AR a body, he thought he would have a great in-home doctor alongside some sort of company.The only problem is that Robots are not medical professionals, and Hal has a strange fascination with the complete and utter control he has over Dirk when he's got his fingers in the boys ass.Among other things,Alternate title; I, Robot, the porn re-run.
Relationships: Auto-Responder | Lil Hal/Dirk Strider
Comments: 24
Kudos: 241





	1. AR - Wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably only be a few chapters long, but I woke up at 3am with one sentence in my head.  
> Hal, but he wants to be a doctor.  
> This is the product of that 3 am horny self-jam.  
> \--  
> LOGIKA [ loh-jee-kuh ]  
> \- A machine with its own onboard intelligence, capable of independent action.
> 
> FUGAZI [ foo-gah-zee ]  
> \- Something and/or someone, who is fake, not real; a machine.

Whatever demon possessed Dirk Strider and caused him to create the android body that stands before him is probably feelin’ real fuckin proud of himself. At least, he hopes it's damn proud, because Dirk is certainly feeling pretty damn proud of himself.

Made of sleek alloy, shiny black steel and millions of interlocking pieces, the whole thing took maybe two months of ramen noodles and energy drinks, all of which litter the wood floor of the bedroom that the body was ultimately assembled in. With nothing better to do but worry about his health and stare at the equine imagery scrolling across his television screen, the project wasn’t something he was totally in objection of. Of course, there were a million things that could go wrong with this, hence the nine-hundred fail-safes, self-destruct, and forced-destruct options at Dirk’s skinny-boy fingertips.

It gives him a rush of power, the little remote in his hands, the delicate body he’s created for himself. When he reaches out to touch it, he hesitates, like his hand on it will taint its beauty. It _is_ beautiful, after all. He’s given it everything a robotic body could need- the ability to utilize extra arms, microscopic camera’s- He’s even fitted it with a whole surgical kit, little scalpels and stitching mechanisms- Just in case he ever needs something like that done. He hopes he doesn’t ever need to use that feature.

He's tried to make it as human as possible. There's little titanium teeth behind the interlocking plates that make up the things lips, there's even a tongue made of similarly interlocked segments, which will secrete coolant into the cranial cavity that will undoubtedly grow to be incredibly hot. 

Its perfect.

The eyes are currently dead and lifeless, but once Dirk hooks up the needed bits and pieces and uploads his Auto Responder, they’ll flare with a kind of life that Dirk is excited to see, if he’s being honest. 

Warm palm against the cool metal of the robotic face, delicately made of millions of tiny plates and pieces that took Dirk a week along to create and put together, the AI will have full utilization of any range of human expressions from smiling to scowling with seamless perfection. Dirk slides his hand down, fingers feeling over each notch and bump, and he wonders for a moment why he didn’t just make the entire body out of interlocking little pieces- Give the body the real kind of motion range of a person, rather than just in each joint and pivot point. 

Then he remembers how long just putting this goddamned Vitruvian face together took, and stops wondering. 

His hand grazes down a bicep, across the little plates that make up the elbow, to the delicately crafted hands. These- now, these are something he’s proud of. Each finger made of plates smaller than any on the face, each knuckle and fingernail just as carefully created. Beneath the plates, a range of nerve-mimicking wires and sensors. If Dirk did this all right, which he did, because of course he did, this body would be about as adept as a human in picking out sharp from smooth, hard from soft. 

Dirk draws his hand away. He’s touched it enough. If he _taints_ it anymore, AR will probably have a small fit. After all, it is his new body.

They’ve talked about this for years. The fact that it’s happening now sends as much of a buzz down Dirk’s spine as it probably does fizzle AR’s programming. He’s never thought himself capable of something like this, always hesitant that he’ll fuck it up, but here it is, and its perfect.

Dirk was adamant about not doing this at first for a long time and for several good reasons. He’d list them if they weren’t so blatantly obvious, most of them coming from movies like iRobot and other logika-armageddon movies. But alas- he’d been convinced. AR was like that. Convincing. Said stuff about being able to accurately assess Dirk’s mental state, physical state, and, as Dirk had taken into careful account, assisting him with careful surgeries, should he ever need them. Add to the list being able to cook, clean, sort, accompany, and aid, AR had made a good case as to why Dirk should build him a body. 

So here they were.

AR is bothering him, but Dirk isn’t going to answer him. At least, not until he’s got this motherfucker into his super-sweet new ride, and he can talk to him face to face. 

God. A face to face conversation. That’s a little daunting.

Socked feet shuffle across the wooden panels, and the boy yawns, dumping himself into his seat and rolling up to his computer like he’s in a Bugatti and his desktop is a famous casino, still ignoring AR’s incessant pestering. He brings up a few files, plugs in a few commands, and then takes the thick black HDMI cable and drags it to the husk standing beside his desk. Connecting his body to the computer, he plugs the cable into the spot on the side of the animation's neck.

Like a flower soaking up water into each of the veins of its stem, color erupts from the port in a beautiful display, straight red lines blooming in vector patterns across the bodies neck, down its spine as it _wakes up._ It's a sight. Each metal plate whirrs and clicks and tests itself, and Dirk plugs another command into his computer. He won’t- or, hasn’t, put AR into it yet. As much as he hates the little fucker, he doesn’t want a corrupted bot running around his house, and a virus-riddled Auto Responder wouldn’t be fun either.

The eyes are still lifeless, but the robot tests out its arms, stretching them forward and flexing its fingers with tiny clicking noises that are music to Dirk’s ears. He can’t help himself with the way a proud grin spreads across his face, and as usually chill as he is, he’s actually excited for something for the first time in a while. AR’s pestering is getting more and more excited. The little shit can probably feel the external connection. He probably knows what it is, and is watching it through the firewall that stands between himself and his body. He could probably take the wall down, but until Dirk gives him the go, AR knows he shouldn’t rush. Or, at least, he should know. 

One click. That's all it takes. Dirk hovers his mouse over the permission, eyes flicking to Hal’s most recent pester.

A single word.

**_‘Please?’_ **

He hits ‘allow.’

It takes about three seconds for AR to make the journey along the cable into the robot. As soon as he’s in, though, little red spots appear on the pointed glasses that sit across the delicate metal nose, and the eyes behind them roar with a red fire that makes Dirk’s stomach coil up in knots.

Oh yeah. This is the shit.

It’s a massive boost to his ego to watch AR inspect his shape. He holds his hands out and turns his palms over once, twice, stares at the little plates that click across his knuckles. Dirk doesn’t say anything yet, but with the way AR seems to jump and react to the seagulls outside, his audio circuits are online.

“Wow.” He says, seeming surprised even at the buzzing sound of his own voice. He runs his alloy hands over his throat, reaches for the cable, and looks to Dirk as if for confirmation. Dirk gives him a nod, and AR rips the cable from its socket with the kind of eagerness a child might have ripping a gift open.

The small platform that the robot stands on is for charging, ports on AR’s heels slotting perfectly into place when he steps on- or, they will. For now, though, AR steps stiffly off of the platform and onto the wooden floor. Dirk watches him bend over, touch his toes, watches in amusement as he looks to Dirk’s wardrobe mirror, and inspects his face.

“You did…. A good job.” AR chitters, his programming clearly still waking up to the new shape it is taking on. His voice is similar to Dirk’s, a little higher, a little sharper, as requested. “But red?”

Dirk follows the red lines that stripe and horizontally cross AR’s body from head to toe, and sighs. 

“You can change the color scheme, dumb-ass. Red was just the base color.”

AR quickly discovers the new feature, and the lines cycle color from red, to green, to orange, pink, blue. It's like having his own walking disco ball, Dirk thinks, as he spins on his chair to close a few programs and set his computer to sleep. For now, he won’t need it. He has a walking computer inspecting his face plates less than two feet away. 

“Come here.” Dirk calls, slouching in his chair with folded arms, a bored outlook to hide how honestly excited he is that this worked, he did it, he built his AI a robotic body so advanced that it could probably tell Dirk if he had a sociopathic mental condition.

A curiosity to be satisfied later.

AR stands straight from where he’s inspecting the internal wiring of his stomach, the hatch he opened closing with soft, whirring click.

He ambles stiffly across the floorboards and stands even stiffer in front of Dirk, who rolls forward, a pair of tweezers pulled from his pocket, but only for just in case.

“How do you feel?” Dirk asks, looking up to meet the red-orange hues of AR’s eyes, which are really just a billion different kinds of cameras built into one, and watches as Hal nods once, and rumbles with a hum that sounds like a computer fan whirring to life.

“I feel…. Different.”

Dirk rolls his eyes. “Duh. What else? Can you feel anything out of place?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

The flesh and blood of the two rolls forward and places his hand on the cool alloy of AR’s chest. The robot does a double take, seemingly surprised, and looks from Dirk to his hand.

“Can you feel this?”

AR nods. Dirk stands, grips AR’s shoulder firmly. “This?”

Another nod. “You built nerve sensors into this?”

“Duh.” Dirk scoffs, rolling his eyes again. “You wanted a body, I gave you a body. Not gonna give you some half-assed tin can.”

“I can’t access any permissions.”

“Nope.”

AR’s face contorts into a glare that only makes Dirk’s eyebrows quirk upwards. At least his expressions filter is working.

“You having access and not me seems a bit controlling.”

“I don’t have control. Neither of us can fuck with your base wiring from the outside. I locked the permissions in a box and lost the key.” Dirk explains, taking AR’s hand in his and pinching his index meanly. Its a bit hard to pinch metal, but the delicate plates do give a little, and AR makes a noise like a dial-up phone and yanks away, and DIrk stifles a grin.

“Pain receptors?” AR questions indignantly, inspecting the delicate little plates of his digit before giving his creator an incredulous stare. Dirk nods.

“Again. You asked for a body.”

“Yeah, a body, not a hindrance.”

A shrug. If AR doesn’t like the body, Dirk is more than happy to scrap him. It doesn’t seem that way, though, because the little robot is looking at himself in the mirror again.

It’s a bit weird. Like watching a little kid learn to walk for the first time. He’s still a little stiff, but he’s clearly getting the picture pretty fast, and soon enough, AR walks as well as Dirk does down the hall as Dirk takes him on a mini-tour of his new surroundings. 

It takes maybe an hour for AR to get properly acquainted with everything. After a while, he starts asking Dirk to call him ‘Lil Hal,’ or ‘Hal,’ for short, which Dirk humors, because honestly, AR is a little boring and objective, according to ‘Hal.’

Whatever. 

Dirk sits at the kitchen table and watches Hal inspect the microwave, the oven, the utensils in the drawers. Quirks his brow in amusement whenever Hal makes electronic little chittering noises in response to the fridge beeping or the microwave dinging.

It's cute, in a way.

Dirk is lounging on his bed when Hal springs the question on him a few weeks later. The little bot is standing on his charging platform, the delicate plates over his camera-eyes fluttering open as Hal drags himself out of stasis.

“You said you wanted a medical exam.”

Dirk puts his book down, and purses his lips. It's not a misplaced statement, since Dirk _had_ asked for something to the same effect a few weeks ago. He’s way past having a doctor check him for whatever could be wrong internally, and if he can find out exactly why he has almost daily stomach aches and migraines, that’d be fantastic. Hal steps off of the platform with the grace of a real person, and Dirk again marvels his incredible craftsmanship. The black steel and carefully organised alloy really is the best thing Dirk has ever created. 

Dirk slips to the edge of his bed and sits on it, watching the little fugazi make his way over. 

“Most medical exams, according to my archives, consist of a physical and mental overview. Physical components include an assessment of your heartbeat, a record of your growth, an optical exam, and, at your age, a prostate exam.”

Unamused, Dirk sets his jaw and crinkles his nose. “We can skip that part.”

“But Dirk,” Hal starts. “If we do not properly assess your internal functions, you could end up with a list of medical conditions ranging from a hemorrhage to prostate cancer. Do you want a catheter for the rest of your life, Dirk? Speaking of, a urethral exam is probably also in the cards for you.”

Dirk feels something inside him jump and twist. He doesn’t know anything about medicine or doctors or _exams,_ at least not ones like this. Hal _is_ the one with all the information. 

The logika is staring down at Dirk with such an unreadable face that Dirk is almost mad that he gave him shades. It really is fucking impossible to guage someone’s reactions through those things, huh? 

Dirk makes a noise like air whistling out of a kettle. He adjusts his crossed arms, and taps his foot on the floor and stands up. Hal is slightly shorter than him, of course, and Dirk takes solace in knowing he can still look down on the AI.

“Fine. But I don’t have any kind of study or appropriate space to do anything too complicated.”

Hal’s color scheme flicks red for a moment. He tends to do that when he thinks, out of habit, Dirk thinks. Then, he’s back to his blood-orange lines, and he nods once.

“Give me your scrap bits and pieces, and the better half of an hour.”


	2. An accurate reading.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal gives Dirk a different kind of exam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAH WAH This was... a ride, to write.  
> I’m so glad i got it done though  
> ——
> 
> PROSTATE EXAM [prr-oh-stay-te ex-aa-muh]  
> \- Stimulation of the prostate gland within the male anus for the sake of medical purposes, or for pleasure.
> 
> \- Bee

The better half of an hour turns out to be a whole hour, and Dirk gets quite a lot done in said hour. He tidies his room, talks to himself, shuffles a bunch of useless shit around, and then does what he thinks he probably should have done before he asked Hal to give him a fucking medical exam.

He does his research.

Everything Hal said before is so far true. At his age, he probably should be having his first prostate exam, and considering he hasn’t ever had anything checked before, since he lives alone in the middle of the ocean, he’s probably way past due for a lot of invasive procedures.

It's not as bad as he thought. All Hal should be doing is sticking a finger in and pulling a finger out. Nothing to it. 

Dirk can’t find anything about any kind of bladder or urethral checks, but Hal has access to more information than he does, he thinks, so maybe he knows something Dirk doesn’t, which wouldn’t be a long shot to assume. 

Then, he spends the rest of his time fiddling with his drawing tablet, drawing dicks and boobs and various other genitalia attached to various inanimate objects just for fun.

“I’m done.”

Dirk yelps and falls backwards off of his seat when Hal’s voice shocks him out of his thoughts about doctors and medical exams and other shit. He lands on the ground with a soft ‘oof’, and Hal chimes with amusement. Stupid robot.

“Don’t fucking sneak up on me.” Dirk snarls, rubbing his head as he sits up and gathers himself to his feet, his socks slipping on the polished wood.

“I didn’t sneak. I am incapable of sneaking. I simply walked in and up to you, who was clearly not paying attention.” Hal explains in a monotone voice, giving Dirk a stare that Dirk really can’t explain with a word in his current vocabulary. The logika stands like a tin soldier, hands at his sides, perfect posture, and Dirk finds himself wondering for a spare moment if it would have killed him to give the husk a permanent hunch. 

Folding his arms, Hal says nothing more, simply turning on an alloy heel to leave the room. Dirk doesn’t move for a moment, simply watching Hal’s shiny behind walk away, waiting until the bot is out of view before he starts to follow. Can’t seem too excited now, can he? 

The workspace is down the hall and around a corner, and what was once Dirk’s workshop, and still largely is, has now been converted into what he thinks looks like a goddamn torture chamber. There’s a white screen that sort-of separates the little square-foot or so of space from the rest of the room. There’s a bed-like table that looks like it could be manoeuvred and folded into any number of positions.

Oh, did he mention the leather straps that hang from either side in various places? Yeah. Those look like some serious shit, and they make Dirk’s stomach twist a little. There’s a metal cart with a few tools laid out on it, but they aren’t as unnerving as the chair-bed with restraints. He’s barely stepped into the room, and he’s already marginally anxious.

“Let’s get started. Take your shirt off.”

Dirk scoffs at Hal’s urgent brashness. He steps down into the workshop and walks across the concrete to the makeshift little doctors office, running his hand over the massage-bed-observation-table-thing. “Take me to dinner first.”

Hal lets out a puff of air that could be mistaken for a sigh and sits down onto a little stool with wheels, looking bored.

“We’ve eaten meals together multiple times. Surely we’re past the formalities.” 

“You mean, I’ve eaten, while you stand at the end of the table and watch me.”

The blonde huffs a breath and begrudgingly obliges, pulling his shirt up and over his head. He dumps it on the floor, and then makes to sit on the bed after Hal gestures for him to.

“So, What's first, doc?” Dirk asks, folding his arms as Dirk brings up a holographic screen in front of his face, projected from his shades. 

“We should establish a safeword.” Hal states simply, getting up from his seat, while Dirk’s guts twist again. 

“A safeword? You’re giving me a goddamn medical exam, not a fucking BDSM punishment.” Dirk tries to joke, but it comes out a little strained, and he can feel himself sweating a little as Hal presses a hand to the centre of his chest. He sits straighter, and he can feel Hal’s hand buzzing a little. The holographic screen changes, and there’s an electrocardiogram there now, displaying a beating heart and all of the accompanying rhythms.

“Yes, but should anything go wrong, you should say so.” 

The android reads over the displayed information and pulls his hand away.

“How about I just say ‘stop’?” Dirk asks incredulously, not sure why Hal wants a goddamn safeword. If anything goes really wrong, Dirk does have a failsafe command that will shut the little fugazi down within seconds, but he’s sure that he’s not gonna need to use it.

Right?

“Sure. You have a slight arrhythmia.” 

Dirk blinks. Wow. He didn’t expect a diagnosis so fast, and he also didn’t expect his heart to have something wrong with it, either. At least, not an irregular heartbeat. Hal moves back over and directs Dirk to stand up. Hal pokes and prods and massages, tickles and inspects, and by the end of it all, Dirk is rather uncomfortably riled up. He’s stripped down to his boxers, and Hal drops a measuring tape out of his wrist and documents Dirk’s height alongside everything else he’s jotted down. 

“Alright,” Hal finally says. “Bend over.”

Dirk’s face burns so red so suddenly, he wonders if the room didn’t just get another twenty degrees warmer. Hal doesn’t comment on it, though, too busy pulling gloves onto his delicate, plated fingers.

He snaps the glove around his wrist, and the sound makes Dirk jump. He fists his hands at his sides and shifts uncomfortably, and Hal scoffs, which only sends his face and neck an even hotter shade of red.

“Dirk. Take your boxers off. Elbows on the bed.”

He grits his teeth. Goddamn it. His stomach twists and writhes, but he eventually gives in and pushes his anxiety past, peeling his boxers down off of his pale, skinny hips. He can feel Hal’s eyes on him, which only makes him even more squirmy, especially as he bends over to place his elbows on the bed like he was asked. Hal steps around in front of him, on the opposite side of the bed, and he works so fast to get the leather straps around both of Dirk’s wrists that the boy has no time to react.

“Hey- What the fuck?” Dirk squawks incredulously, trying to stand up and pull his wrists free, to no avail. 

“Just a precaution. If you move too much, or stand up, or try to swat me away, I could perforate your anal wall, and you’ll die.”

Okay. Fine. That seems reasonable enough to Dirk’s ears, but it still feels like too much. Dirk’s cock twitches in response to the thoughts that run rampant through his mind, thoughts of Hal taking advantage of him, which would be so easy in this position.

Shit.

Hal takes a seat on his stool behind Dirk, slicking his gloved fingers with the small bottle of lubricant he snatched from Dirk’s room before they got down here. Dirk jumps and gasps when Hal presses his first finger to his skin and slides it down the crack of his cheeks, feeling for his pucker with the nerve responders on his fingertips. It gives the bot a buzz of excitement to feel Dirk tense and shiver, and he can only imagine how red his maker's face is. He probably looks so cute, but Hal isn’t preoccupied with that right now. Using his other hand, he pulls the fat of Dirk's ass aside for a better view of what he’s working with, and his face-plates click into a grin that he’s glad Dirk can’t see when the blonde swears and bows his head lower.

Hal slicks the cinching pucker with his lubed fingers, and Dirk shakes the whole time. Hal keeps his hand on the others asscheek, holding him steady, and then pushes his index inwards.

“Fuck! Shit! God, give a guy a warning!” Dirk yelps, shunting forward against the bed, which Hal is now grateful that he bolted to the floor. 

He was not expecting Hal to move that fast. Two seconds of hole-lubing and the robot was already shoving fingers into him. It's cold, really cold, and Dirk has to take a couple of deep breaths before he can relax back onto his heels from where he jumped onto his toes.

“Sorry, Dirk. Deep breaths. Relax. You’re too tight for me to go any further.”

Pale face turning even redder with shame, Dirk wonders how any guy goes through this without dying. He feels like his ego and pride have been pulled from their hooks on the wall inside Dirk’s head, and then shat on, shat on again, washed off with piss, thrown off a cliff, and then shat on again. He’s never felt so fucking disgustingly degraded in his life, and his traitor cock is already growing excited because of it.

God, he wants this to be over.

Dirk obliges, though, and after a few less-than-soothing pats on his asscheek from Hal, he feels a little calmer. 

Well, as calm as one can be with a finger in their asshole.

“I’m gonna move now, Dirk.” Hal says from behind him, and Dirk stifles the whimper that accompanies his nod. He curses softly when Hal wiggles his finger, and then pushes it deeper, until Dirk is sure he’s seated up to his knuckle.

Fuuuuuck. Why does it feel so good? The burn and stretch of his pucker around Hal’s finger has settled to a slight ache, and he’s not cold anymore. He almost feels himself rocking back into the sensation.

He’s up on his toes with a girlish squeal again when Hal curls his finger. 

Whatever Hal just meanly poked- His prostate, Dirk will assume- Has him seeing stars. Hal settles, thank god, and Dirk has enough time to catch his breath. His wrists are going red where he’s been pulling at the leather straps, and his calves and thighs shake, threatening to give out.

Dirk is sure that the logika is fucking smirking, the little prick. 

It takes a moment for Dirk to register that he’s hard, and when it does hit him, he’s sure he’s going to melt into a puddle. One finger in his ass and he’s suddenly ready for someone to rail him. Goddamn it. He aches and burns and shakes, and no amount of describing will ever make anyone understand how fucking ashamed and horny he is right now.

“Dirk.”

Hal says simply, to which the boy doesn’t reply. Dirk simply shudders and arches, and Hal pushes down on the small of his back, forcing him down onto his heels.

“Fuck, Fuck, man, just- God, flawless AI my invaded ass-” Dirk gasps, rocking back onto the finger in his hole as he sits back down. 

“This may come as a surprise to you, but i’ve never done this before.” Hal snarks, sliding his hand back down the curve of Dirk’s rear to hold him steady again. “Just chill and let me get my readings.”

Dirk chills, or, tries to, but as soon as Hal curls and rocks his finger again, he makes a noise that has him burying his face down into his arms to hide the red, his hands balled into fists. The restraints creak, and Dirk moans yet again when Hal shifts, not giving him a chance to catch his breath.

“Please, Dirk, I can’t get an accurate recording when you’re moaning and squirming like a whore.”

Dirk’s goes stock still and his eyes blow wide behind his shades. Did- Did Hal really just- With his fingers in-

Shit. He can feel the precome leaking from the head of his cock and dripping down his shaft and onto the floor, and he grits his teeth.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“That I can’t get an accurate reading if you’re shaking and moving. Try to relax.”

Dirk practically snarls. He pulls at his restraints once more and adjusts his position, opening his mouth to speak again.

“Okay, this is o-oo-ooaaaaahhh-!” 

Dirk bucks, his hips almost instinctively throwing themselves back as Hal stuffs another finger into his hole, and the burning stretch has tears pricking his eyes. He feels so ruined and exhausted already, and not much has even happened. 

“Dirk, please.”

“Y-You ffff- Ffuck- You’re doing th- that on p-purp-pose-”

“Duh. I’m trying to do a prostate exam. I’m almost done, okay? Just relax.”

Hal curls his fingers. Dirk makes an obscene sound and wishes he could hide his face, his mouth agape in a perfect ‘o’ as his internals catch alight again in response to Hal’s ministrations. 

“I can’t feel anything wrong.” Hal says, in such a calm voice that it only seems to rile Dirk up further.

“Fantastic, now get out-” Dirk gasps, shaking from head to toe as Hal shifts his digits again and nudges once more against his internal fuckbutton. His face is so red he thinks he might die, and his cock leaks little pools onto the floor, but Hal doesn’t seem to have any intention of stopping. 

In fact, Dirk is sure he can feel the little shit’s fingers gathering a rhythm, a mean scoop-grind of the pads of his fingers against his prostate in such a way that Dirk’s toes curl into the concrete, and he arches his back, the clasps on his cuffs clicking and knocking as Dirk violently yanks at his wrists.

“U-g-ghhnnn- Haaaa- Haahh- Hah-l- Ha-l-”

“Why so eager? It is important to gain a thorough understanding of your prostates condition before I can make a sound judgement. Is something the matter, Dirk?”

Dirk grits his teeth with such a mean tenseness that he’s worried he might chip or shatter his canines, and swallows. He gasps a breath when Hal slips a third finger into his hole, and lets loose another pornographic moan, thighs quaking.

“Fuuuc-ck- Fuck-!” He cries, squeezing his eyes shut. He can feel Hal watching him, inspecting him, gauging his reactions, and Dirk has never felt so goddamn exposed and vulnerable before. Hal’s stool scrapes on the ground, and there’s a mechanical chirp from behind him. 

“You’re such a fucking slut.”

Before he can say a word, Dirk is hurtling towards an orgasm that rips the breath from him even before it hits, and he rips at the restraints around his wrists. There’s no way this is an ‘exam’ anymore. Hal is calling him dirty names, fingering his ass, degrading him, humiliating him, and as much as Dirk could do something, he-

Won’t.

“I’m gonna cum-“ Dirk grits out, moaning as he unabashedly fucks his hips back onto Hal's wriggling fingers. “Oh fuck, oh, oh, oh fuck, I’m, I’m-”

As Dirk’s hips spasm violently and he throws his head back, Hal meanly grinds his fingers up and knuckle-rubs at the little ball of nerves, watching Dirks red, hot cock spurt ropes of sticky come onto the floor and his stomach. Hal’s face twists into a smirk as Dirk yells and writhes and throws his hips back, fighting against the restraints holding his wrists down. As the main event of his climax finally eases off, Hal so too eases off of Dirks prostate, but continues to slowly scissor his fingers, watching him whine.

Dirk gasps. He’s never come so hard in his life, and he wasn’t even supposed to.

Hal tsks, and it makes Dirk’s insides coil. 

“While a climax during an exam isn’t uncommon, I thought you’d have more self control, Dirk. You’ve made a mess of my office.

“F-Fuck y-you- Oh, fuck you so much-”

“If you continue to use that kind of language, i’m afraid i’ll have to have you removed from the premises.”

“This. This is over. You’re not even a re- reaa- aaaahhhh-”

Dirk arches and moans, shaking as he feels Hal’s fingers starting to grind against his prostate again, and he doesn’t even try to stop himself this time, falling to press his chest against the bed, feebly yanking on his restraints every time Hal’s careful fingers find the little ball of nerves.

“This is called a prostate massage, Dirk. Did you know that prostate massages can be used for medical purposes? They’re used to relieve stress and increase the prostate glands overall health.”

Moaning in response, Dirk’s back arches, and he’s very quickly hard again. It's almost painful, and between his sudden second arousal and the stretch of three fingers abusing his prostate, tears start to squeeze from the corners of his eyes. His knees knock, and he shakes dangerously, and Hal’s hand shoots out to grab his hip, stopping his shivers and giving him a little extra support. 

“You seem very stressed, Dirk. Don’t you think so?” Hal questions, suddenly fucking his fingers down, sharply jabbing the gland just behind the wall of muscle.

Dirk yells, keening up on his toes again, but this time, Hal is moving with intent. He stands up from his chair and places one hand on the bed beside Dirk’s head, and leans over him, pulling his fingers almost the whole way out before he thrusts them meanly back in, each time with precise, calculated stabs at Dirk’s prostate.

Each movement has Dirk gasping. He can’t grab anything, or move his hands, and he’s sure he’s going to be bruised around his wrists when this is over. He sobs with a moan, shaking as Hal finger-fucks him towards another overwhelming orgasm. He’s never felt so tense, so pent up, and his brain is so foggy that he can’t think past how good this feels. Its so much, his cock is red and weeping and bouncing with every fuck of Hal’s fingers as his hips jerk and Hal fists a hand. In his hair, shoving his face down into the bed.

“H-al-! Hal! Ah! AH! S-St- sto- it- s’too- s’too m-m- muhhhh-! I C- can-’t-”

“See, this is the kind of self-degrading behavior that comes with stress, Dirk. You can do it, and you will, and you’ll feel better for it after.”

Dirk wails. Hal’s hits are on target every single time, and his fingers are like arrows, sharp, direct, too much.

“Hal, Hal, Hal-” He chants in tandem with the squishing, wet thrusts of the logika’s fingers, the sounds that fill his ears only serving to make him hotter. His cock aches and leaks, and Dirk drools a little onto the bed, moaning when Hal tightens his fingers in his hair.

“You’re fucking disgusting, Dirk, look at you. You could make me stop, shut me down, we both know that, but you won’t will you? Because you’re a touch-starved little boy. But that’s okay. I know the treatment for touch-starvation. Do you want to know what it is, Dirk?’

Dirk is barely listening to what Hal is saying anymore. It's too much, it's all too much. Tears stream down his face, and broken, choked-off moans and wails abuse his throat. The bed creaks as Dirk uselessly pulls at his restraints again, feeling dirtier and dirtier by the second. Hal calling him a whore. Being spread out like this, being used, all of this is driving him closer and closer to an orgasm he can’t fight, one stronger than the last.

“It involves a lot,” Hal starts, leaning down so close to Dirk’s ear that he can hear his internal fan humming. He serves the sentence with a punctuated stab of his fingers, and the sound that leaves Dirk’s mouth is just as horny and desperate as every other sound he’s made. 

“And a lot,”

Gasping, Dirk arches, mumbling incoherently under his breath as the coil in his stomach winds as tight as a spring, and Hal twists his fingers inside the heat of Dirk’s ass as the boy’s words get louder.

“Of touching.”

“Fuck, please, plEASE-!”

With a scream that sort of sounds like an animal being slowly disemboweled, Dirk comes like he’s being exorcised. Hal’s hand is gone from his hair, and Dirk throws his head so far back he’ll worry later about if he cracked it. One of the restraints snaps with how hard Dirk thrashes and pulls at them, but all the boy does is grab onto the side of the bed with a rip so hard his knuckles go white as he fucks his hips into the air and spasms, only getting his voice back towards the lower side of his high. He moans and moans and moans, gasps and moans and shakes his head, shoulders shuddering and back glistening with sweat. He’s pretty sure he just came dry, but it's one of the less important things on his mind as he exhaustedly slumps. Forward, his knees buckling.

Hal presses his fingers down into Dirk’s prostate and massages it gently, watching Dirk as he falls flat onto the bed and sobs, moaning feebly as his hips jerk with aborted thrusts backwards and down.

“There we go, Dirk. I think I’ve got my reading.”

With a wet squelch, Dirk feels Hal’s fingers slip out of him, and he moans quietly in response, and then sinks down to his knees on the floor in the puddle of his come and sweat, and everything goes black.


	3. ANNOUNCEMENT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discontinued.

Hey! So I got a TON of asks about this fic, and I LOVE every single comment, reading that you guys love it makes me so happy.

Thinga have gotten real hectic recently, and I WON'T be writing the next chapter, at least not now. I've fixed the tags so that it's not falss advertising, and I WILL DEFINITELY write more DirkHal at some point, I love their dynamic. I've gotten busy with roleplays on discord, which will be posted as fics to here, so I am still writing, just not standalone by-myself fics, for now. So look out for those! There are some good ones coming. ;)

I hope to get an update for Signless out soon, I AM working on one... slowly. Like I said, things have been hectic and I appreciate everyone's patience. I have... a lot of ideas to write as well, lmao.

If you would like to join the 18+ Homestuck Discord Server or the 18+ Strilondes Roleplay Server, let me know and I can drop you a link! Hope to see you there!

Thanks everyone for all your support and understanding. Have a buzzing day!

\- Bee.


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